Kirk Reynolds was looking at Wim Vandeen in astonishment. "My office could certainly use someone like you," he said.
"I've got a job," Wim snapped.
When Kirk Reynolds dropped Catherine off at the end of the evening, he said, "You won't forget about St. Moritz, will you?"
"No. I won't forget." Why can't I just say yes?
Constantin Demiris phoned late that night. Catherine was tempted to tell him about Kirk Reynolds, but at the last moment she decided not to.
Chapter Ten
Athens
Father Konstantinou was perturbed. From the moment he had seen the newspaper report of Frederick Stavros's hit-and-run death, he had been haunted by it. The priest had heard thousands of confessions since he had been ordained, but the dramatic confession of Frederick Stavros, followed by his death, had left an indelible impression.
"Hey, what's bothering you?"
Father Konstantinou turned to look at the beautiful young man lying naked in bed beside him. "Nothing, love."
"Don't I make you happy?"
"You know you do, Georgios."
"Then what's the problem? You're acting like I'm not here, for Christ's sake."
"Don't use profanity."
"I don't like being ignored."
"I'm sorry, darling. It's just that...one of my parishioners was killed in an automobile accident."
"We all have to go sometime, right?"
"Yes, of course. But this was a very troubled man."
"You mean he was sick in the head?"
"No. He had a terrible secret, and it was too large a burden for him to carry."
"What kind of secret?"
The priest stroked the young man's thigh. "You know I can't discuss that. It was told to me in the confessional."
"I thought we didn't have no secrets from each other."
"We don't, Georgios, but..."
"Gamoto! We either do, or we don't. Anyway, you said the guy's dead. What difference can it make now?"
"None, I suppose, but..."
Georgios Lato wrapped his arms around his bed partner, and whispered in his ear, "I'm curious."
"You're tickling my ear."
Lato began to stroke Father Konstantinou's body.
"Oh...don't stop..."
"Then tell me."
"Very well. I suppose it can't really do any harm now..."
Georgios Lato had come up in the world. He was born in the slums of Athens, and when he was twelve years old he became a male prostitute. In the beginning Lato had walked the streets, picking up a few dollars for servicing drunks in alleys and tourists in their hotel rooms. He was gifted with dark good looks and a strong, firm body.
When he was sixteen, a pimp said to him: "You're a poulaki, Georgios. You're giving it away. I can set you up to make a lot of money."
And he kept his promise. From that moment on Georgios Lato serviced only important, wealthy men, and he was handsomely rewarded for it.
When Lato met Nikos Veritos, the personal assistant to the great tycoon Spyros Lambrou, Lato's life changed.
"I'm in love with you," Nikos Veritos told the young boy. "I want you to stop whoring around. You belong to me now."
"Sure, Niki. I love you too."
Veritos was constantly pampering the boy with gifts. He bought his clothes, paid for a small apartment for him, and gave him spending money. But he fretted about what Lato was doing when he was away from him.
Veritos solved the problem one day by announcing, "I've gotten you a job with Spyros Lambrou's company, where I work."
"So you can keep a fucking eye on me? I won't..."
"Of course that's not it, sweetheart. I just like to have you near me."
Georgios Lato had protested at first, but he finally gave in. He found that he actually enjoyed working for the company. He worked in the mail room and as a delivery boy, and that gave him the freedom to pick up extra money outside, from appreciative clients like Father Konstantinou.
When Georgios Lato left Father Konstantinou's bed that afternoon, his mind was in a turmoil. The secret that the priest had confided to him was a stunning piece of news, and Georgios Lato's mind immediately turned to how he could make money out of it. He could have confided it to Nikos Veritos, but he had bigger plans. I'm going right to the big boss with this, Lato told himself. That's where the real payoff will be.
The following morning, Lato walked into Spyros Lambrou's reception office.
The secretary behind the desk looked up. "Oh. The mail's early today, Georgios."
Georgios Lato shook his head. "No, ma'am. I have to see Mr. Lambrou."
She smiled. "Really? What do you want to see him about? Do you have a business proposition for him?" she teased.
Lato said seriously, "No, it's nothing like that. I just got word that my mother is dying, and I...I have to go back home. I just wanted to thank Mr. Lambrou for giving me a job here. It would only take a minute, but if he's too busy..." He started to turn away.
"Wait. I'm sure he won't mind."
Ten minutes later, Georgios Lato was standing in Spyros Lambrou's office. He had never been inside before, and the opulence overwhelmed him.
"Well, young man. I'm sorry to hear your mother is dying. Perhaps a small bonus would..."
"Thank you, sir. But that's not really why I'm here."
Lambrou frowned at him. "I don't understand."
"Mr. Lambrou, I have some important information that I think might be valuable to you."
He could see the skepticism on Lambrou's face. "Oh, really? I'm afraid I'm rather busy, so if you'll..."
"It's about Constantin Demiris." The words tumbled out. "I have a good friend who's a priest. He heard a confession from a man who was killed right afterward in a car accident, and what the man told him is about Constantin Demiris. Mr. Demiris did an awful thing. Really awful. He could go to prison for it. But if you're not interested..."